Happy Hour

Billy Falcon

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    Sign on the door, from two to four, Happy Hour
    Beers half a buck, free barbecue, all you can eat
    The place smelled of smoke, the juke box was playin?,
    He stopped lovin? her today; thought, if this is Happy Hour,
    Man, that?s a funny song to play

    Lined up at the bar they sat tellin? their stories, one by one
    Each one they told was sadder than the one before
    They spoke about love and how it got lost
    And oh, how those were the days?..
    Suddenly it was quiet and everyone was lookin? at me

    So this is why they call it Happy Hour,
    It?s where the broken hearts come to talk about what used to be
    So this is why they call it Happy Hour,
    I pulled up a chair and told them all about you and me.

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    They sat there listenin?, grippin? their glasses and shakin? their heads
    Someone said, heard that someone else said, man, I been there
    I told them how much you loved me and how bad I hurt you,
    And how it wasn?t over yet;
    Everybody but me believed every single word I said

    So this is why they call it Happy Hour
    It?s where the lonely hearts come when they can?t forget
    So this is why they call it Happy Hour
    It?s where loves? wounded come to dance with their dead
    It?s where loves? wounded come to dance with their dead

    Sign on the door said ?from two to four, Happy Hour?

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    Composición: Billy Falcon

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